


She Walks in Beauty {Kylo Ren x Reader | Modern AU}

by Voodoo_Youdo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Friendships, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Jedi Academy AU, Literature, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot, POV First Person, Poetry, Romantic Fluff, Teen Romance, Teenage Dorks, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voodoo_Youdo/pseuds/Voodoo_Youdo
Summary: Ben Solo and the reader have formed an unlikely friendship inside a boarding school that strives for academic and financial perfection. Ben has offered the reader a place to relax when the academy becomes overwhelming, his abandoned observatory tower. The two of them have created an environment where they enjoy each other's interests and company. Tonight, Ben's kindness extends more than it has in the past.(This is part of a larger work that is in progress at the moment. Let me know if you all would like to see a completed product!)
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo/Reader, Kylo Ren/Original Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	She Walks in Beauty {Kylo Ren x Reader | Modern AU}

**Author's Note:**

> This is an excerpt from a piece I'd like to make into a complete work. It revolves around Ben Solo and the reader navigating their relationship, the academy they attend and its social hierarchy, and evolving into your own person within adolescence. It will have lots of fluff, lots of angst, and lots of classic literary themes. Let me know if you all would like more of this AU!  
> Much love, GMS.

The secret observatory had become a familiar and welcome part of my day. 

Especially when Ben’s presence warmed the room. 

I stopped taking my lunch hours in the dormitories and instead nestled myself among Ben’s array of blankets, now accompanied by numerous stacks of books smuggled from the library. Most of them were my own, but Ben took it upon himself to add a volume to the collection if he found it to my tastes. Even my midnight excursions to the library became less frequent after Ben’s observatory opened its arms to me. The company filled me with a newfound contentment that I didn’t know I was missing. Now, I almost ached to go too long without it.

Ben and I sat in out usual spots that evening. He immersed himself in the gadgets on is desk and I lay upon my back, mind swimming in the book pages open at arms length. Multiple ceiling panels had been removed to fill our tiny space with crackling night air, a sweet reminder that summer was dawning upon the academy. The warmth wriggled beneath my skin, every new position I tried was more uncomfortable than the last. The stars seemed to goad me with their twinkling light, and my eyes refused to dive into the story clutched in my hands. With an over exaggerated sigh, I shut the book in defeat. Mary Shelly would have to wait until later.

“Something wrong?” Ben spared me a glance from is work as I hauled myself into an upright position. I was well aware that my hair was falling from its pins and that my uniform had the wrinkles of a dried fruit, but here it didn’t matter. Here I didn’t bother with the prying eyes of other students or the judging gaze of professors.

“No, I'm fine. Just antsy tonight I suppose.” I shot my arms to the ceiling in a welcome stretch before letting them drop into my lap like falling sandbags. Ben made a low humming noise between his lips,

“I got you a new book. It’s on top of _Carrie_. It seemed like something you’d be interested in since you mentioned Elizabeth Landon’s work.”

Sure enough, a new volume waited for me atop a leaning tower of paper and leather covers. It was a collection of poems by Lord Byron, a poet very similar to Miss Landon.

“Thank you, Ben. I can’t believe you remembered that I liked Landon’s work. It’s been months since I read any.”

Ben’s response was hurried and cluttered,

“Really? I thought you had mentioned her recently.”

I laughed away his embarrassment with a shake of my head, and took it as his way of saying “you’re welcome.”

My fingertips eagerly explored the pages of words more rich than the darkest chocolate. The pages fluttered with the scent of lilac and crystalized honey as I turned them from one end to the other.

“I’ve never read Byron’s work,” I muttered as I felt the parchment roll over the grooves of my fingerprint. My head snapped to Ben as he set down his tools with an abrupt clash on the table. He stared at me through scrunched eyebrows,

“You’ve _never_ read Byron?” The disbelief in his voice was clear as crystal.

“I take it you’re familiar with him?”

Ben responded by moving from his usual space to a cross legged seat beside me. He radiated a warmth that my chilled body craved to lean into.

“Byron and Shelly were friends, you know. They had secret meetings about forbidden literature.”

“Like us?” I gave Ben a nudge, biting my lip. He chuckled and gave me a smile that showed his dimples on either cheek. Ben’s laugh wasn’t a sound I got to hear often, but my chest always swelled with pride when I was the cause for it.

“Sure, like us,” even sitting Ben was much taller than me. “That means you have to carry around a calcified heart for the rest of your days.”

“Sounds romantic,” I hummed, “I like it.”

A silence settled between us, but I wouldn’t allow it for long. The fear that Ben would heart the intensity of my heartbeat as his arm brushed my shoulder forced quick words from my throat,

“Which Byron poem is your favorite?”

Ben shifted against the wood floors, imitating the sound of rustling parchment. His hand snaked around my arms holding the book with an increasingly tight grip. His fingers pulled the pages from my palm; and I watched as he traveled through lines spun from ink and heartstrings.

“‘She Walks in Beauty’, 1814.” Ben’s voice fit the title as a seal does upon wax. My eyes indulged in the beautifully placed words as Ben’s low tone followed in perfect time. He made the poem feel like a crisp winter evening, when the sky is dying in a purple hue and the last of the sun’s warmth embraces the earth. I felt the tickle of his words against the skin behind my ear, chilling blood and bone. My inhaled breath became trapped behind my teeth like caged bird as Ben’s hands took their time grazing over mine to turn the page. I floated my gaze to Ben, but he wasn’t looking at the page, he was looking at me.

“She walks in beauty, like the night, Of cloudless chimes and the starry skies,” his voice was so soft, I feared if I took I breath I might loose the words from his lips, “and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

My heart thundered against my chest once. Twice. My mouth suddenly felt dry.

“And, what is the author trying to convey in this poem?” Ben’s eyes met mine and I swore I could see the entire night sky within them. I couldn’t help myself, I leaned closer towards the warmth my body wanted to embrace. My gaze dipped as Ben’s lips moved,

“Byron describes the women he loves. He’s transfixed by her but,” Ben’s words faltered, I could feel his confidence begin to fizzle. He took in a sharp breath, set his jaw, and continued in a tone that wavered, “but he’s too afraid to face her. He fears the beauty she holds is not meant for him.”

“Ben,” The beating in my chest screamed for me to close the little remaining space between us, to allow myself to be enveloped in Ben’s warmth. I forced myself to have patience, what lay between us was a question. My palm settled atop Ben’s fingers set into the floor. “Do you trust me?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed a deep breath; Ben’s eyes flicked to meet mine without hesitation,

“Yes.”

That was the only answer I needed. I tipped my chin upwards, and met his lips for a kiss. It was no lighter than the brush of a sparrows wing, but the sensation sent colors of fresh strawberries and spring grass flashing before my eyes. His lips were so gentle, speckled with cracks and dark freckles I couldn’t help but adore.

I pulled away with the breath still hitched in my chest. Ben’s expression was starstruck, I would have giggled if I hadn’t felt the same way. Warmth blossomed on my cheek, I caught the familiar grooves of Ben’s hand cup my face.

“May I kiss you again?” His thumb ran through the smallest strands of hair lining my temple. My voice tumbled from my lips in a breath of excitement and utter adoration,

“Please.” 


End file.
